We skirt around Place Émilie-Gamelin. I clutch her hand and my tote bag tighter. I’ve never known it to be a nice part of town. It doesn’t matter how many family friendly attractions fill the square the side streets are crawling with addicts. They have nowhere else to go.
Lovers in swan shaped boats paddle along the canal. The late afternoon sun shimmers on the surface. Hordes of people wander the banks in various states of undress. They walk dogs and hold hands and hurriedly eat ice cream before it drips down the cone. Simple pleasures cure the lives we lead.
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